


Better than treacle tart

by keikoHPfan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:50:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5496050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keikoHPfan/pseuds/keikoHPfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war, Harry becomes a Healer and is specialised in children's health. When Draco Malfoy suddenly comes back into his life, desperate and lost, he's forced to face his own reality: he's not happy. Not DH compliant. Will be slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another WIP, because I'm a bit of a workaholic when it comes to writing... I hope you enjoy it!!

Draco Malfoy has changed, Harry thinks as he observes the tall man in front of him. Tall and lean, with defined features and soft strands of silver blond hair framing his face quite nicely.

His eyes are the same, though. Grey and intense and angry. Some things never change, it would seem.

"Potter" Malfoy says almost reluctantly, and Harry has to smile. Merlin, it's been a long time. Seven years?

"Mr. Malfoy" he answers with a slight nod. He's a professional and will act as one, no matter how much he's itching to bicker and fight with the blonde and feel _alive_ again. "What can I do to help you?"

Malfoy moves forward and suddenly Harry sees it. A small white bassinet covered with a knitted blue blanket. Harry smiles.

"I didn't know you had a child. Congratulations."

"Thank you. I guess. Mother... Mother says you're the best child Healer there is."

Harry enjoys the familiar ball of happiness in his chest that he experiences each time someone praises his work and his skills as a Healer. Although many were surprised at his choice of carreer after the war, things have settled down and Harry is quite content with his life now. Not happy, but content. And he loves his job, there's no denying it.

"That's very nice of her."

"Yes, well, she thought you could... fix him."

"Fix him?" Harry frowns. "Is your son ill then? May I see him?"

Malfoy shifts his stance slightly, clenching his jaw and lifting his chin as if he were preparing himself for a fight. And then he closes his eyes briefly, and kneels in front of the bassinet. He murmurs softly under his breath, and Harry watches with no small amount of fascination as Draco Malfoy, former school bully, ex-Death Eater and git extraordinaire, stands up with a small bundle in his arms, his expression both soft and worried.

Harry takes a step forward and can't help his smile. Malfoy's son is a cutie, all full cheeks and blue eyes and fine blond hair. Harry crushes the bitter feeling of jealousy before it can explode in his chest and tries to focus on his job. It's getting better and better with time, really, but somehow seeing his former school nemesis with a baby reawakens the old pain.

"He's such a beautiful baby! How old is he?" Harry fumbles to retrieve his notepad and a Muggle pen from his back pocket.

"He'll be four months next week."

"Okay. What's his name?"

"Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy."

"Alright. Would you mind setting him on the examination table and explaining to me what's wrong with your son?"

Astonishingly, Malfoy does as he's told, laying his son on the white sheet with infinite care. He doesn't say anything, though, and when he finally meets Harry's questioning gaze, he just shakes his head. The dark haired frowns and steps forward.

"Hey Scorpius. I'm Harry. I'm going to cast a few spells on you to see if everything is alright with you. I'm not going to hurt you. Okay sweetie, here we go."

A few minutes later, Harry's frown has deepened and Malfoy seems tenser than ever.

"Mr. Malfoy, I can't seem to find anything wrong with your son. As far as I can tell, he's a perfectly healthy baby."

"Have you checked his magical core?"

"What? Uh, no. He's far too young to have magical core related illnesses and it would-"

"Check it, please."

Please? Malfoy is looking desperate all of a sudden, his eyes dark with fear and hopelessness, and Harry fights the weird urge to reach out to touch him. He casts the spell. Twice. Scorpius is growing agitated and Harry absently rubs a hand over the small belly to soothe him before casting the spell a third time.

Nothing.

Fuck.

Malfoy's son has no magical core. None at all.

Scorpius is a Squib.

"Well?"

"I'm sorry, but your son has no magical core. He's perfectly-"

"I know that. What I want to know is whether you can fix him or not!"

Scorpius begins to cry, almost quietly, eyes wide and tears rolling down his chubby cheeks, and Harry takes him in his arms.

"Mr. Malfoy, your son is not broken, therefore there's nothing to fix. He's not ill – actually he's in very good health."

"He's a fucking Squib!"

The blonde is panting, eyes wild and cheeks red with anger, and Scorpius cries harder against Harry's chest.

"Mr. Mal-Draco. You have to calm down, you are upsetting your son" he says softly, and Malfoy seems to deflate, collapsing in the chair next to Harry's desk with a sigh. "Maybe we should discuss this with Scorpius' mother, I mean-"

"She's gone. As soon as the Healer said he was a Squib, she wanted to give him for up to a Muggle orphanage. That's..."

"That is what is usually done when a child with no magical abilities is born amongst Pureblood families."

"Yes. But... I couldn't. I said we needed time, we needed to be sure before-well, anyway, she's gone. She divorced me two months ago."

"I am sorry to hear that."

Harry bends down slightly and gives Malfoy his son back, watching carefully as the blonde man tenderly holds his son against his chest, looking so torn that it's painful to look at. Harry sighs and sits behind his desk, pondering what he should say – or not say – and knowing there's nothing he can do.

"Is there really nothing... is there no hope at all?"

"I'm sorry, I know it's hard and I know it's terrifying for you, but there is nothing I can do. Magical children are born in Muggle families and non-magical children in families of wizards. It's something that happens. Your son is a healthy little boy and-"

"You don't understand."

"Maybe not. I'm not a Pureblood and I was raised in the Muggle world, so there are certainly things I can't understand. But... is it such a terrible thing? You are blessed with a beautiful child and it's a good thing, no matter if he has magical abilities or not."

"Spare me your righteous speech, Potter. It's easy for you to say, you're not the one with a son who's a useless Squib!"

Harry's anger flares instantly, wild magic crackling around him and heat pooling under his skin. He has to calm down, he has to. Deep breaths, in and out.

Fuck, it's been ages since he's last lost control like that.

When he opens his eyes again, Malfoy is looking at him with wide eyes, his arms wrapped protectively around his son.

"I apologize. You are right, I have no idea what you are going through. I have no children, no family." Malfoy's face falls and some emotion flickers in his eyes briefly – is that remorse? "But... Think about it, alright? I can see how much you love your son. Just- don't let others decide of your life – and his. Look, here's my card with my personnal Floo. Take your time, and don't hesitate to call me, anytime. I know we haven't the best history, but I'd like to help you through this. And I know the Muggle world."

Malfoy takes the card with trembling fingers, and before Harry can't say anything else, he's gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly let me say that I have nothing against internet dating sites - this is how I met my love - or against bars/clubs - but you'll have to admit it's not exactly the kind of place you usually start lasting relationships.
> 
> Then I have to say this is not how this chapter was supposed to turn out, but, hey, I have no control over my muse, so here it is. I hope you'll like it!

Harry sighs and closes his book. His tea is cold and he's dreadfully tired, but he can't find it in himself to go to bed. It's been two weeks since Malfoy came to St Mungo's with his lovely son and Harry is still hoping that the man will contact him. Still hoping that he will not give up his son, that he will swallow his pride and ask for help – even if it means burying the hatchet with his former school archenemy, as ironic as it is. The memory of the man's despair and of his only four-month old baby's crying face is imprinted in Harry's brain and he's not able to let go, even that's probably exactly what he should do. But then again, Harry isn't exactly known for doing what would be best for him.

Maybe Hermione's right. Maybe he should try and date again. But it's been ages since he last went out and his last few dating experiences had been nightmares. He's too famous. Too damaged. Perhaps too picky as well, but is it such a strange thing to want someone who'd be interested in him, Harry, and not in whatever dating the Boy-Who-Lived could bring them?

Of course he could always search for someone in the Muggle world. Though his only visit to a Muggle gay bar had left him with a pounding headache and a bitter feeling. This wasn't really the sort of place to begin meaningful relationships – unless you are exceptionally lucky, which Harry's love life, or lack thereof, proves he's not – and Harry isn't interested in one-night stands. Maybe he should try this Internet dating thing Hermione has told him about. It doesn't appeal to him all that much, but he supposes hoping to randomly meet the love of his life like everyone else seems to do would be too much to ask.

He's still pondering if he should make himself another cup of tea or just give up and go to bed when the Floo flares, startling him out of his thoughts.

Malfoy steps out of the hearth without his usual gracefulness, his eyes wild and his son cradled to his chest.

"Malfoy? Are you alright? Has something happened?"

"I need your help" the blonde states bluntly, and Harry briefly thinks that he's looking a bit crazy.

"I think you should sit down."

The blonde litterally collapses on the couch, Scorpius still in his arms.

"Try to breathe slowly. I'm going to make you a cup of tea. Is Scorpius sleeping?"

"Yes."

Harry nods and quickly Transfigures a cushion into a small crib. Malfoy hands him the sleeping baby and he lays him down, smiling as Scorpius doesn't even stir.

Ten minutes later, Malfoy is clutching a mug of tea in his hands as if his life depended on it, and hasn't say anything more.

"Hum, Malfoy? Draco?"

"What? Oh! I apologize. It's just... »

« It's alright. Could you maybe tell me why you are so upset?"

"My parents have arranged for Scorpius to be taken care of in a Muggle orphanage. Somewhere nice and all, they said. The people there said he wouldn't stay long anyway, babies are generally adopted fairly quickly."

"I see."

"I have to bring him there tomorrow morning."

Harry just nods, because he doesn't trust himself to speak right now. Malfoy suddenly leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and taking his head in his hands. Harry's eyes widen as he hears what sounds like a muffle sob.

"I can't... Salazar, I can't."

"You don't have to."

"You don't understand. Everyone acts as if Scorpius were already gone. My parents haven't seen him since our appointment in St Mungo's. My friends continuously ask if I already got rid of him. It's... No one seems to think that maybe I... That..."

"That you'd keep him regardless."

"Yes."

"Is that what is worrying you? Your family, your friends?"

"I just... After the war, it has taken me years to rebuild our name. I worked harder than everyone else to ensure that my mother wouldn't suffer anymore because of my father's mistakes."

"You did well" Harry says softly. And Malfoy did, in a very unexpected way. Harry has followed from afar as the former Death Eater studied Magical Law, graduated, and then relentlessly worked for the Ministry, moving up the ladder until his current job as the Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement secretary. Malfoy is now well-known and respected, and his example has helped Death Eaters children to find their place in the Wizarding World after the war, while his unrelenting obsession with capturing and charging the last Death Eaters and Snatchers has earned him the grudging respect of, well, almost everyone.

Funny how neither of them is where everyone expected them to be years after the war.

"If I keep Scorpius... I-I can't bear to lose my family. My friends."

Harry bites back an angry retort and tries to see things from the blonde's perspective.

"I don't know about your father, but... I'm sure your mother would understand. She loves you more than anything, and she wouldn't make you give up your son."

"Maybe..."

"Have you tried to speak to her?"

"No... And my father..."

"Is a soulless bastard whose opinion shouldn't matter anyway." Harry blushes and curses himself inwardly. "Sorry."

"Don't be. It's mostly true. I'm just afraid he'd disown me. »

"Well, would that be so bad? I mean, I'm sure you're making enough money with your job at the Ministry to live comfortably with Scorpius."

"You don't understand, I'm his only heir and it's my duty-"

"You're right, I don't understand all that Pureblood bullshit. What I understand is what it's like to grow up without your parents. What I understand is how it hurts, how it tears you apart and- fuck. Sorry. Look, it's obvious that you love your son and that you don't want to give him up. I think your mother will support you, and you friends will if they're really friends."

Draco snorts.

"They're not Gryffindors, Potter. They-"

"What the hell do school Houses have to do with anything? We're not teenagers anymore. Friendship is friendship, regardless of what House you've been Sorted in when you were eleven."

"Yeah. That's easy for you to say. Your two sidekicks have never left your side. I'm not sure my friends will do the same."

"Well, their loss. If they can't support you when you need them, then they're not your friends. Trust me, I would know. In the end my real friends can be counted on the fingers of one hand, and that's alright."

And Harry is alright with that. He has learned with the years that he'd rather have few real friends that dozens of meaningless acquaintances that don't know him and don't really care. Yes, he's often lonely because his friends have their lives, and, well, he... works, mainly. But they're here for him and he's here for them and that's what counts.

"I just... I can't make my decision right now." The blonde raises his head, his usually perfect hair mussed in a way that's oddly endearing, and pins Harry on the spot with the force of his gaze. "You'll take care of Scorpius, I know you will. I need a few days to sort myself out, and it's not safe for Scorpius with my father so bend on giving him to that orphanage... Yes, that's perfect."

"What? Wait, wait-"

"Here, there's everything you need for him in that trunk. Owl me if you need anything. Oh! Scorpius has a family bracelet on his wrist. In case of emergency, just press on the Malfoy Crest, it's a Portkey and it will bring you both to wherever I am. I'll contact you in a few days, I-I need time. I'll contact you."

And with that, he's gone, and Harry is left to gape at the green flames, his brain unable to process what has just happened.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry wakes up to the sound of crying.

Ear-piercing and furious crying, to be exact.

He sits up in bed so quickly that his head is spinning for a moment, and then he remembers. Draco. Scorpius.

Merlin.

He entangles his legs in the blankets in his haste to get to the baby and curses copiously before finally managing to get up. The wood is cold under his bare feet and he shivers, quickly grabbing his dressing gown before crouching before Scorpius' crib. The Warming Charm he's cast over the baby before going to bed last night has worn off, but Scorpius is warm and apparently only very hungry, if the frantic sucking of his lower lip is any clue.

Blue-grey eyes look at him accusingly and Harry grins.

"Hey, be easy on me, alright? I'm new at this. I should have known you'd be a high-maintenance baby, really. Here, let me warm a bottle."

Harry holds Scorpius against his chest with his right arm and takes the bottle with his left, quickly climbing into bed once more.

"Here, so much better." He rests his back against the wooden headboard of his bed and relaxes as the little one eagerly sucks on his bottle. Harry watches him closely, marveling at how little his hands are. How soft and fine his hair is. How perfectly he fits in his arms, waking something inside of Harry that he thought had died a long time ago.

"You're perfect, you know that?"

Scorpius giggles, sated and content now that his belly is full of warm milk. Harry bends his knees and lays the baby on his thighs, the little feet moving happily on his stomach.

"Your daddy loves you so much. He's a conceited prat, most of the time, but he loves you very much. He'll come around, you'll see. I think he already knows what he'll do, he just needs some time to accept it. And I'll help him, you know? I'll help him in any way I can, because no one should grow up without their parents. You'll be a very happy little boy, I swear."

And if Malfoy makes the wrong decision, then Harry swears he'll regret it.

Scorpius has removed a sock and found his toes – which are apparently fascinating when you're four months old – and Harry grins at the thought of how undignified it must be for a Malfoy to suck on one's toes. Scorpius offers him a toothless grin and Harry chuckles.

"You're going to be a handful, aren't you?"

Harry tries not to dwell on the bittersweet feeling blooming in his heart and to focus on what he has to do instead.

Call St Mungo's and take a few days off – his days off and annual leaves have piled up anyway and he's long due for a break. Have breakfast. Give Scorpius a bath and have a shower. Then maybe go outside for a short walk, if the weather is good enough? There's this park around the corner that's very nice. Scorpius starts to produce little sounds, his face scrunched up in concentration as if he's testing his voice, and Harry chuckles.

"Yes, baby, time to get up!"

HP-HP-HP-HP

"Harry? Mate, why is there a baby in your living-room?"

Harry snorts in spite of his sudden worry at hearing Ron's voice in his house before he's had the time to think about what he's going to say to his friends. He quickly rinces the dishes in the sink and wipes his hands before going to the living-room, where Ron is towering over Scorpius, who's looking at the redhead giant with wide eyes from his spot on a fluffy blanket.

"Hi Ron. This is Scorpius. Sweetie, this big idiot is my best friend. What brings you here?"

"We heard you had taken a few days off and Hermione bugged me until I promised to come and check on you. Harry, who's that?"

"I just told you, his name is Scorpius."

"Did you... did you stole a baby at St Mungo's?"

"Ron! Honestly mate! Why would I do that?"

"Well... I know you want a family so badly and... with Hermione pregnant and all I thought maybe..."

"Maybe I'd take a random baby and keep him from his parents?" Harry is torn between amusement at Ron's imagination and anger that his best friend thinks him capable of such a thing. "I'm just baby-sitting for a... friend of mine. It's only for a few days."

Ron frowns and looks at Scorpius once more.

"A friend of yours?"

"Yes, Ron. Scorpius' father needed a few days for personal matters."

"And where's his mother?"

"She's not in the picture anymore."

"Mate, who's that friend?"

Harry shifts uneasily from foot to foot, wondering how much he should tell Ron.

"Promise not to freak out?"

"I'll try."

"It's Draco Malfoy. No, wait, wait, let me explain. He's in a bad place at the moment, and needed a few days to sort himself out and take an important decision. I agreed to take care of Scorpius in the meantime."

"Since when are you friend with Draco bloody Malfoy?"

Harry winces.

"Well, we're not exactly friends. Malfoy came to St Mungo's a few weeks ago for Scorpius and we talked after the boy's checkup. I know it seems crazy and all, but trust me, I know what I'm doing."

Ron sighs and shakes his head.

"Do you, Harry? Really?" Harry looks away and suddenly feels Ron's strong arms wrap him into a hug. "I'm worried about you mate. I'm not sure this is a good idea, but it's too late anyway. Look, call me if you need to talk or anything, okay?"

"Yeah."

Ron smiles a bit sadly and nods.

"I'll try to keep Hermione off your back for a while, but a bloke can only do so much."

"I know. Thanks." Harry grins and Ron shakes his head once more before stepping into the hearth.

"Be careful, alright?"

"Yeah."

"And owl me."

"Will do. Bye, Ron."

Ron disappears in the green flames and Harry kneels next to Scorpius, giving the baby his little dragon plush back.

"D'you think it's a bad idea? Maybe it is. But it's the best for you, isn't it?"

And if it's certainly not the best for Harry, well, he'll deal with the consequences later.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Two days later, as Harry absently cast a Cleaning Charm on his shoulder where Scorpius has just trown up, he realizes that there's no way he'll let Malfoy gives his son to that orphanage.

If his father doesn't want to keep him, then Harry will adopt Scorpius. Consequences be damned.

This decision should be terrifying, but it only leaves Harry with a peaceful and content feeling. And if he's suddenly selfishly hoping that Malfoy will not want Scorpius back, well, he tries not to think about it too much.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry wakes up so suddenly that he almost falls off the couch. His arms tighten reflexively around the warm weight on his chest and he's grateful for it when he realizes that said weight is a still sleeping Scorpius. Harry's still wondering what the hell has waked him up so suddenly when someone clears their throat behind him.

His wand is in his hand before he can think about it and he's standing, holding Scorpius against his chest with his free arm.

"Careful, Harry. It's just me."

Harry blinks and releases a deep sigh.

"Draco. Fuck, you scared me half to death."

"Yes, I can see that. Rough night?"

"Yeah. His teeth are bothering him, I think."

Draco smiles a bit sadly and Harry takes a step forward, handing the blonde man his sleeping son.

"Coffee?"

"Yes, please."

"Make yourself at home. I'll be right back."

Harry flees in the kitchen and tries to get his breathing under control. He's so not prepared to see Draco take his son back. He's not prepared to get back to his lonely life and his empty house. It's worse to have gotten a glimpse of what it could be, of what it means to have a family and to lose it so quickly than it ever has been to live alone before.

Merlin, what is he going to do?

He tries to remember how to make coffee and finally manages to bring two cups of what he hopes is an acceptable beverage in the living room.

Draco is sitting on the couch, Scorpius on his knees. The baby gives his father one of his delighted grins, all pink gums and bright eyes, and Harry's heart constricts painfully. Harry carefully perches himself on the edge of the sofa and hands Draco his cup.

They drink in silence for a while, only pausing to make Scorpius giggle by tickling him or – in Harry's case – making silly noises and even sillier faces.

"I should prepare his bottle, he's going to be hungry soon."

"I've told my parents that I had given Scorpius away. To the orphanage, I mean."

Harry has no idea what to say. He only manages to produce an weird noise, half-grunt and half-hum, but it seems to be enough.

"I figured it would give me time to think about it. And I can't. I can't give him up. But I can't bring him back to the Manor either. I wouldn't put it past my father to take the matter in his own hands."

"You could both stay here" Harry blurts out, and he feels himself blush at the startled look on Draco's face. "I mean, at least for awhile. I have plenty of place, really, and you could even take a whole floor for you and Scorpius. It would give you time, to, you know. Sort yourself out. Think about what you will do and how."

Fuck, where does that come from?

But Draco doesn't sneer and he doesn't snort either. He's only watching Harry, his grey eyes intense and serious. Scorpius starts to fidget and to whine on the blonde's knees, and Harry takes the opportunity to stand up and prepare the bottle.

"You would do that for us?"

"Of course."

Draco takes Scorpius' bottle from Harry's trembling hands and for a little while, only the baby's sucking disturbs the silence.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why would you help me like that?"

"Because… Well, it's not only for you. It's for Scorpius. I know only too well what it's like to grow up without parents. If I can help a child to remain with his, I will do it. And… I think you're a good father, and I think you love your son above anyone else. I'd like to give you both a chance to be a family."

"Wouldn't we disturb you? I mean… I'm single and you don't have to worry about me bringing anyone here, but I doubt that your boyfriends will appreciate your living with another man and his baby."

"It's not-" Harry closes his eyes and curses the day when his homosexuality has been revealed to the Prophet. As if he needed something else to set him apart. To make him feel different once more. "It's not a problem. I don't date anyway."

Draco is watching him with curiosity, but he thankfully doesn't comment on it.

"It could be… a good idea. I'd like to know more about… Muggles."

"I'll help you with that. We would even go the Muggle world sometime. And I'd love to have Scorpius here, he's delightful. Really, Draco it's no bother."

"Alright…" the blond snorts and looks at his son with a half-smile. "This is going to be awkward."

"Probably, yes."

"You're something else, Potter."

"Yeah, so I've been told. And it's Harry."

Draco flashes him an easy grin that suits him strangely well and lightly taps on Scorpius' back. The little one lets out a hearty burp and both men chuckle.

Yes, it's going to be awkward. But if Draco keeps his son, it's going to be worth it.

And it doesn't matter if Harry ends up being hurt in the process. He's used to it.


	5. Chapter 5

"Shh, sweetie, come on. Your dad needs to sleep, don't wake him up just yet."

Harry carefully retrieves Scorpius from his crib next to Draco's bed – where the blonde is sleeping in a way that would certainly mortify him if he knew, mouth wide open and softly snoring. Harry barely refrains to snort and leaves the room with a warm baby in his arms and a smile on his lips.

Life with Draco is many things, but boring isn't on the list – it's only been a week since he's living in Grimmauld Place and Harry is quite surprised to discover who Draco sodding Malfoy really is.

The git apparently wakes up at dawn five days a week – usually managing to make enough noise to drag Harry out of his bed as well - and sleeps until noon on weekends. He couldn't cook to save his life, but he manages a decent tea and deals with his son just fine. He's incredibly fussy about his clothes and his hair – Harry didn't know you could use so much products for your hair and he doesn't recognize half of the bottles that have invaded the house's only usable bathroom - but he loves pizza and fries and Muggle beer just like any other guy Harry knows.

The Floo flares to life and Harry is shaken out of his thoughts. He carefully sets Scorpius on his little nest of blankets and stuffed toys on the living room's wooden floor and kneels in front of the fireplace. He lowers the wards to accept the call and finds himself thoroughly surprised – and more than a bit anxious – to see Narcissa Malfoy's face appearing into the flames. He hopes that Scorpius will remain quiet and takes a deep breath before plastering a cautious smile on his face.

"Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. Would you please open the Floo, I wish to get through."

"Er... what? I mean, er, is something the matter?"

"Please, Mr. Potter, spare us this unpleasant way of conversing and let me through, so that I may see you guests." Harry opens his mouth to say – well, something – but Narcissa quickly adds "I think we both know that it would be better that their presence remains unknown, and I would prefer not to discuss anything from here."

The meaning is clear enough – she doesn't want the elder Malfoy to know about her call. She knows who his guests are and she doesn't want her husband to know. If he knows something about her, it's that she would do anything for her son. He's sure of if, and her previous words only reinforce his certitude. He nods and stands up, silently modifying the wards before stepping away to let Narcissa step into the room.

She does, her back as straight and her chin as high as they've always been, but her eyes are tired and shadowed by dark circles and Harry feels somewhat sorry for her.

"They're here" he blurts out, and she smiles, though there's no joy in it.

"I know. I wouldn't have sent Draco to you if I hadn't known you would take care of them." Narcissa kneels next to Scorpius and takes him in her arms, cooing softly as he squeals with delight.

Harry almost chokes on his own spit at the sight of Narcissa Malfoy sitting on his rug and cuddling her grandson.

It's too early to have a drink, obviously.

Pity, that.

"I had hoped that Draco would accept your help. I had no doubt that you would do your best to convince him to keep his son. Considering your… less than fortunate childhood."

Harry snorts and Narcissa looks unimpressed.

"You knew from the start that I couldn't do anything about Scorpius' lack of magic."

"Of course I did. It's not a disease. You're a good Healer, but even you couldn't do any miracle. But, out of everyone… you have always possessed the talent to challenge Draco, with various results, I'll admit. And, of course, you're the Boy-Who-Lived." She raises her head and meets his eyes, her blue eyes softer than he has ever seen them. "Who could better protect them? Not to mention that this place is probably the safest place in Britain. I used to come here as a child, and I know how strong the Black wards are, and I have no doubts that yours are just as strong."

Harry has trouble finding words, and he gives up after a few seconds spent gaping like a dead goldfish.

"Do you want some breakfast?"

Narcissa just nods with a knowing half smile and Harry stumbles into the kitchen, willing his heart to calm the fuck down. He's too young to have a heart attack – and he's a bloody Healer, he should know, he reminds himself as he braces his hands against the counter, closing his eyes.

He's almost proved wrong when Draco gets in the kitchen behind him, yawning loudly.

"Fuck! You scared me half to death! Don't do that!"

"Well aren't you a ray of sunshine this morning? And I didn't do anything wrong. You just jumped like a frightened rabbit for some reason."

The blonde is raising an eyebrow in a way that makes Harry want to do violent things and his hand twitches around his wand almost reflexively. Not to mention that he always manages to look _good_ even in his rumpled pajamas and it pisses Harry off. He doesn't even look that good when he primps for a date. No wonder he's single.

"Your mother is in the living-room" he says, and he watches with smug satisfaction as the grey eyes widen comically.

"What?"

"Don't worry, she's on your side. Breakfast?"

Watching Draco gasps for air is only funny for a few moments, and then Harry becomes worried. He hurriedly steps forward and grasps the blonde's shoulders.

"Shit. Breathe Draco. Slowly out, one, two, three. Slowly in, one, two, three. That's it. Everything is alright. I'm sorry, I'm an idiot. You should go and talk to her while I make us something to eat – and some tea wouldn't hurt I think."

Draco nods, his back stiff and his hands balled into fists, and exits the kitchen as if he's going into battle. Which, Harry muses, maybe he is, in a sense. At least in his mind, because Harry has no doubt that Narcissa is on their side – on _Draco's_ side.

This is Draco's fight, Draco's life, Draco's son. Not his, he reminds himself firmly.

Not his.

He sighs and starts preparing breakfast, letting his hands reproduce the familiar tasks – putting water in the kettle and bread in the toaster, cracking eggs over a pan, setting jam and butter and the Canadian maple syrup Draco is so fond of on a tray.

He really needs a drink.


	6. Chapter 6

Breakfast is as awkward as Harry thought it would be. Narcissa barely eats but keeps on cooing at Scorpius, Draco is obviously sulking and glaring at his plate and Harry's not sure if he should try to make small talk or just give up and flee to let the Malfoys deal with their problems on their own.

In the end he's saved from his dilemma by Narcissa.

"So, have you already decided where my grandson will go during daytime when Harry will get back to work?"

Harry chokes on his tea and Draco claps him helpfully on the back while raising an amused eyebrow. Smug bastard.

"Mother, Scorpius and I will not stay here. It's only temporary, until I figure something out."

"I don't see why you couldn't live here. It's in Muggle London, which is perfect, really, and it's safe. Plus it is a Black estate, and you are a Black, Draco."

"Be at it may, it's Harry's house, not mine, and I'm still overstaying my welcome as it is."

"No!" Harry blurts out. "I mean, you're welcome to stay for as long as you need to. Both of you. If-if you want to, I mean."

Harry feels his cheeks burn with embarrassment at his awkward stammering and tries to ignore Narcissa's smile and Draco's stunned face.

"There is a day-nursery around the corner. We could... I don't know, go there tomorrow and see if it could suit Scorpius? I have to go back to work on the following Monday, we should figure something out by then."

"That's settled then. I should go back, I don't want to leave Lucius alone for too long. I would love to come back next week, if that's alright with you."

"Oh! Er, of course, of course."

"Thank you, Harry."

And then she's standing, briefly kissing both her son and her grandson on the forehead and squeezing Harry's shoulder before disappearing through the Floo, her silken dress billowing behind her.

"Well... Er... That's, well..."

"Don't bother, Harry. I don't think there are words to describe how perfect a Slytherin my mother is."

Harry snorts and shakes his head.

"Yes, well, she's right on one point. You should think of what you're going to do with Scorpius once I'm back to work."

Draco is studying him intently and Harry does his best not to fidget like a kid.

"Were you serious about us staying here?"

"Yes, of course."

Draco stares at him without blinking for what seems like ages before he sighs.

"I suppose we should go to that day-nursery place you talked about earlier."

"Don't make that face. It's a nice place."

"I still don't like it."

"Why, because it's Muggle?"

"No. Because I don't like the idea of leaving my son to some people I don't even know."

"You left your son to me, Draco."

"That's not the same. I trust you."

Harry blinks.

"Don't look that surprised. I knew you would sooner cut your own hand than harm a helpless child. Not only you're a Gryffindor and a Healer but I know your own childhood has been less than perfect. I knew Scorpius would be safe and horribly spoiled with you."

"Er, thanks, I think."

Draco waves his hand dismissively and Harry briefly wonders how the blonde manages to say such nice things and still be an insufferable prat. Years of practive, surely.

HP-HP-HP-HP

"You're not going wearing that."

"What?"

"You're not going to the day nursery wearing those… things. You're not going anywhere wearing those, mind you. Why would you even have clothes like that?"

Harry looks down at his red jumper and well-worn jeans.

"They're comfortable?"

"Comfortable? Comfortable? You're not wearing clothes because they're comfortable! It's no wonder you're single."

Harry looks away. Fuck, that stings.

"Yes, well-"

"Come on, Scorpius is napping. Let me see what other monstrosities you've got in your wardrobe."

Half an hour later, Harry is ready to throw himself from the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower if it keeps him from hearing Draco drawling another disparaging comment on his clothes.

"Well, I suppose this is the best we can do" the blond finally says with a sigh.

Harry looks at the mirror.

It's not so bad, to be honest. He's wearing dark blue jeans that he doesn't remember buying and a dark green button down – a gift from Hermione on last Christmas. He's last worn it on a spectacularly failed date, he recalls with a wince.

"Don't make that face. It's much better than anything we've tried before."

"If you say so. Can we go now?"

"I suppose we can. But we're definitely going to some of my favourite clothes shops later."

"What? No, no way-"

"That wasn't a question. And don't worry about money, we'll say it's my way to thank you for what we've been doing for us."

And what could Harry answer to that? Draco actually looks fairly sincere, if a bit smug. So in the end he just nods and tries not to roll his eyes at the blonde's self-satisfied look.

He doesn't really care about his looks, but maybe he could learn some things? Draco is always impeccably dressed, even on weekends when he manages that casual and relaxed look that Harry wouldn't achieve in his dreams. Perhaps he would stop feeling like a homeless beggar in comparison, and, perhaps, just perhaps, it would help him if he ever decided to date again?

HP-HP-HP-HP

On the plus side, Scorpius does have somewhere to stay during his father's working hours as from next week, so Harry supposes that the whole thing isn't a complete failure.

If he forgets about the way Draco has bitched about almost everything on their way to the day-nursery, not to mention the way he has buggered the poor manager about food and sleeping habits and, by the fact, what kind of stimulating activities are organized because of course Scorpius will be quite in advance for his age?

On the down side, Harry then has had to try a least a thousand different suits and casual outfits and Merlin know how many pairs of shoes because of course no one should wear sneakers unless they're running, and apparently one needs at least five different kind of shoes _'and honestly Potter don't you know anything? Of course you can't wear loafers with a suit!'_

Harry has finally said he had enough and bravely fled with Scorpius before Draco could drag him to yet another shop. Draco has followed a few minutes later, Unshrinking their numerous purchases in the hall before taking Scorpius from Harry's arms and going to feed him with a disdainful sniff.

The boy is now sleeping and Harry is fighting a headache the size of Russia. Or Canada. Or any other giant damn country, for that matter, he muses with his head resting on his crossed arms on the kitchen table. He should try to cook something for dinner, but he can't find the energy to do so.

He gives up trying as his stomach rolls and he has to make a run for the bathroom, emptying his stomach in the toilet bowl as pain flashes behind his eyes. He should stand up and flush the toilet and wash his mouth, but the mere idea of opening his eyes promises more pain and he almost sobs at the thought.

"Shit, Harry, are you okay? Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

"Migraine" Harry whispers. Fucking migraines that won't leave him in peace, coming without warning for years and making him want to just lie down and die.

There's a cool hand on his neck, and then slim arms slip under his to drag him away from the toilet. His face is gently wiped with a wet flannel and then the arms are back, helping him to his feet.

"Don't open your eyes." Draco murmurs in his ear, and Harry's glad for his thoughtfulness.

He's soon sitting on his bed and his shoes are being removed, and then he's lying down, and Merlin, but it's so much better. His room is dark and quiet and he cautiously lifts his eyelids.

"Sorry."

"Only you would apologize for being unwell. Who should I call?"

"What?"

"To help you. Who should I call?"

"It's alright. I've got a Potion in my nightstand and then I'll sleep it off. I'll be better by tomorrow."

"Don't be stubborn. Who's taking care of you usually when you're so ill? My mother used to suffer from migraines and I remember how bad it could get." Draco's voice is still low and soft, but Harry can practically feel his exasperation.

"No one. I'm used to it, I'll be fine."

"Figures."

"What?"

"Nothing. Here, your potion."

Harry lets his eyes fall shut and obediently opens his mouth, grimacing as the bitter concoction touches his tongue. There's a cool hand on his brow and concentrating on it helps him keep the foul liquid down.

"Sleep now."

Harry hums quietly and the soothing hand leaves his skin.

He mourns its loss for only a moment before the potion forces him into a heavy sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry wakes up feeling much better, but he's still cautious about opening his eyes. The room is blessedly dark thanks to the drawn curtains and he sighs in relief.

He casts a quick Tempus and is surprised to discover it's half past nine. That means that Draco must have taken care of Scorpius until now, but he will have to go to work at some point.

Harry makes the mistake of trying to sit up too quickly and has to close his eyes at the powerful wave of nausea that assault him.

"You moron, lie down. I swear I don't know how you managed to survive on your own for so long."

Harry really wants to say something, because, honestly? but he can't deny that lying down sounds like a very good idea at this point, so he does. He'll snap at the prat later.

Said prat sets something on the wooden floor before bending over Harry and slipping a second pillow behind his back.

"There. I made you some tea and toast. Nothing too heavy since I suppose you wouldn't be able to keep it down. My mother couldn't."

Harry gives up on snapping at Draco. He just takes the offered cup of tea with a smile and blows softly on the steaming surface.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" he whispers, because he's not sure he's able to stand the sound of his own voice just now. The worst of the migraine is behind him, but that doesn't mean that he's back to his normal self.

"I took the rest of the week off. I'm a bit of a workaholic so they couldn't really refuse."

"You didn't have to."

"You're in no way able to take care of Scorpius right now. And apparently you're not even able to take care of yourself."

"I'm able to-"

"Shut up, that wasn't a question. By the way, Granger – though I suppose it's Weasley now" Draco asks with an excessive shudder that almost makes Harry roll his eyes "will probably pop in later. She seemed quite upset to discover that you suffered from migraines."

"What? Did you call her?"

"Of course I did! I wanted to know if there is someone who usually takes care of you in those cases. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that not only there isn't, but nobody even knew that you got those migraines."

Harry sighs.

"I didn't want them to worry."

"I just… I don't understand you."

Draco seems genuinely confused and Harry shrugs, carefully, because he doesn't want to move his head too much. The blonde shakes his head and wordlessly hands Harry a piece of dry toast. Harry chews on it slowly, trying to decide if he'll keep it down. It seems so, and he eats the whole slice of bread.

"More?"

"No, thanks. But…"

Harry shifts uncomfortably on his bed.

The whole situation is surreal. Him lying in bed, recovering from a bad migraine, with Draco bloody Malfoy as his caretaker, of all people.

He's not sure if he can ask for something and give the bastard more ammunition. Although Draco has been terribly considerate about the whole thing, Harry's not sure how far his good will extends. And how much he's ready to trust the blonde.

"Just ask, Harry."

"I wouldn't mind another cup of tea. Please."

Draco snorts.

"Only you would be embarrassed about asking for tea. I'll be right back."

"Where's Scorpius?"

"Downstairs. He's playing on the rug with his stuffed toys. And yes, I put the wards around him, he won't be going anywhere."

Harry watches as Draco leaves the room and can't help but feel that it's _nice_. To have someone to rely on. To be taken care of. To let go, for once, and let someone else take the lead.

Definitely nice.

He'd better not get used to it, though. It won't last.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Pissed off Hermione is bad.

Pissed off _pregnant_ Hermione is terrifying.

And it doesn't help that Draco is standing there, looking insufferably smug and thoroughly amused, the bastard. Harry tries to bury himself under his covers.

"Honestly, Harry, of all the stupid and reckless things to do! What if you had a seizure? Did you even get a check-up since those migraines began? Are you eating properly? I'm sure you're not sleeping enough, you're working way too much."

It's no wonder Hermione and Molly often get on each other's nerves. They're too much alike.

"I think he gets it, Granger. Maybe you should just come back tomorrow, when he's feeling a bit better? You could yell at him all you want then. I don't mind, it's very entertaining."

Harry mutters 'sadist' under his breath and smiles innocently when Hermione frowns.

"Are you sure you're alright? You could come and stay with us for a few days."

Harry shakes his head.

"No, thank you. Besides with little Rose and the one on the way, you've got your hands full already. I'll be just fine, I'm feeling much better."

Harry doesn't add that he has Draco, because that would be just too weird.

Hermione kisses his cheek and leaves, sending an undecipherable look to Draco who looks torn between worry and amusement.

"Wipe that look off your face. It wasn't that funny."

"Oh, but it was. Made my day, really. Well, I'm going to see if Scorpius is awake, napping time is over. Call me if you need something" he adds in a sing-song voice, and Harry closes his eyes.

Draco is never going to let him live that one down.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Draco is playing with Scorpius, sprawled on the soft rug in front of the fireplace, a soft smile appearing on his face each time the baby makes one of his delighted little noises of happiness. Harry watches them from his spot on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and another cup of tea with lemon and honey between his hands.

He has thought it was nice this morning, but he's been wrong. This is nicer. The warmth of the room. The domesticity of it all. Scorpius' little nose all scrunched tup as he tries to catch the stuffed bear that his father Levitates before him. Harry's headache slowly receding and the feeling of being home.

His chest constricts painfully as his brain reminds him that it's only temporary. That's it's not real. They're not a family. Well, he's no part of it.

He's never been part of a family, not really, and he begins to realize that he probably never will.

Harry blinks furiously to make the tears go away and forces himself to smile. He's ridiculous. He's always known, it shouldn't hurt that much.

It does, though.


	8. Chapter 8

A lot has changed since Harry's migraine.

Both Harry and Draco are now back to work, and Scorpius spends his days at the day-nursery. Draco is apparently so charming that the workers there forget about his odd remarks and inability to use the simplest Muggle objects, which makes Harry both amused and slightly envious.

After realizing that Harry forgets to eat lunch most days (and Merlin but the blond had been annoying, sneering and muttering about stupid heroes not even able to take care of themselves), Draco has taken to come by everyday with wrapped-up sandwiches from the Leaky Cauldron. Harry must say he sometimes has to pinch himself whenever the incongruity of Draco Malfoy bringing him lunch every day at work hits him in the face, which is most days. A ridiculous number of Harry's colleagues – both male and female – moon over the perfect looking blond and pester Harry with questions and Harry hasn't managed to stop blushing and stammering that _no, Draco and I aren't dating, for Merlin's sake, get back to work and leave me alone_. It's horrible.

Only it isn't, obviously. Because Harry gets free lunch every day and comes home every night to find Grimmauld Place lit with candles and mess all over the living-room, because Draco can't be arsed to clean after himself and since he comes home early to take care of Scorpius, there are empty cups of tea and papers and stuffed toys all over the furniture and the floor. And Harry can't be mad about it since he fucking loves it, and it might be that he's not working so long hours now.

Draco doesn't know how to cook, and Harry knows he's needed home.

Maybe that's the best thing. The feeling of being _needed_ and, at the same time, of being taken care of.

Of course Draco is back to his normal self now that the pressure of Scorpius' future is gone from his shoulders. Normal self meaning that he's a condescending bastard that criticize each and every of Harry's outfit that has not been purchased with him, that he's begun to redecorate Grimmauld Place without Harry's agreement – or knowledge – and that he seems focused on Harry's social life – or lack thereof.

He's absolutely insufferable.

And Harry is beginning to like him _far more_ than he should.

HP-HP-HP-HP

It's Friday night and Harry is exhausted. His workload isn't significantly bigger than usual, but it's the down side of having a baby at home.

Nights are chaotic more often than not, and Draco sleeps like the dead, the bastard.

There are only so many Pepper-Up potions you can ingurgitate without side effects, and Harry should probably get easy on them on the next few days if his trembling hands and blood-shot eyes are any clue.

"Draco?"

"In Scorpius' room!"

Harry opens a bottle of beer and plops down on the sofa. Maybe they should just grab some take-away tonight. Draco would probably be more receptive to curry than pizza. Though trying to imagine the pristine blonde eating pizza with proper cutlery instead of with his fingers directly out of the box is kind of funny.

"Scorpius was tired, he's already in bed. I think he's toothing."

"Is he? No wonder he hasn't sleep so good this week."

"Shit, is it why you're looking like death warmed over?"

Harry snorts and takes a gulp of his beer.

"Probably, yes."

"Couldn't you drink in a glass?"

"Nope. Beer is made to be drunk like that. Is curry alright with you?"

"I would say yes but you're looking like you're going to pass out, Harry."

"I didn't say I would cook it."

"We can't go to a restaurant either, there's Scorpius, remember?" Draco frowns with a fake concerned look. "Looks like me, very cute and blond?"

"Take-away, Draco."

"What?"

"We'll order take-away, and they'll deliver it for us. It's kind of tricky with the wards but usually I just wait for the delivery guy on the front porch."

Draco opens and closes his mouth a few times and Harry would laugh at him if he wasn't so tired.

"Great, I'll order for us right away."

HP-HP-HP-HP

Merlin, the face he's making.

Like he's torn between incredulity, disgust and curiosity.

"Harry, why is the food in those boxes?"

"To keep it warm, Draco."

"I'll fetch the plates, then."

"No! Come, time for your first take-away experience. Sit."

The blonde obediently sits down on the couch while eyeing warily the various aluminum boxes.

"This is how you eat take away. You open all of the boxes, everyone takes a fork and you share the different things." Harry illustrates his word by shoveling a mouthful of tandoori chicken in his mouth with the white plastic fork.

"This sounds ridiculous and completely unhygienic."

Harry rolls his eyes and continues eating.

After a few moments spent glaring alternatively at Harry and at the food, Draco seems to make up his mind and finally takes a bite.

"SO?"

"Not too bad, all things considered."

"Ah come on, Draco, it's fucking delicious! Don't be a stuck-up prat and enjoy life for once."

"I enjoy life."

"Not like this. Not Muggle life."

Draco seems to think about it before smiling softly.

"You're right. We could do that with Scorpius when he'll be older. His school friends will probably do it with their parents."

Harry struggles to breathe and wonders if Draco is aware of what he's just implied. Does he really mean for Harry to be still present in their life in a few years?

The blonde seems oblivious to Harry's shock, now happily munching his way through the various dishes with a satisfied half-smile.

It doesn't mean anything. Better not start to overthink it.

"I think I'll try to find us a television tomorrow."

"One of those screens for movies?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"I think it would be a good way for you to be more familiar with the Muggle world. You could watch shows and movies and learn about common things for Muggle families."

"I see."

"If you don't-"

"Could we watch those movies that are drawn?"

"You mean cartoons? Or maybe longer movies like Disney?"

"Yes, that's it, Disney! Some of the kids in Hogwarts talked about it."

Harry smiles and tries not to look too flustered. Draco is looking at him with bright eyes and rosy cheeks, and that's really something he didn't need to see.

"Okay, I'll see what I can do."

And if Draco Malfoy like Disney movies, he'll have such good blackmail material.


	9. Chapter 9

"So, what's with the non-dating thing?"

Harry manages to avoid choking on his tea only because he's slowly getting used to Draco uttering the most embarrassing questions at random times. Apparently it's a quite satisfying hobby for the annoying prat. He must get off on watching Harry splutter awkwardly and blush like a idiot or something.

"What?"

"You know." Draco waves his fork in Harry's direction impatiently. "Why aren't you dating? You're not that bad."

"Gee, thanks."

"No, I'm serious. I mean, you're rich, you're kind of a celebrity – although you have to admit you choice of career did put quite a damper on that, but that's not the point right now – and you clean up quite nicely. So, why?"

"That's none of your business."

"Of course you lost a lot of your fan girls when you came out, but, you gained a lot of fan boys in the process, so I guess it all works out in the end. You should be out enjoying life – or knowing you, planning your wedding with your perfect fiancé already. So, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Are you sure?" Draco narrows his eyes and Harry doesn't like his smirk one bit. He wonders why he has thought he might like the prat.

"Yes, I'm sure." He mumbles, trying to finish his breakfast as soon as humanly possible to make his escape.

"Because there's nothing shameful with having performance problems, you know, they make potions for that kind of-"

Harry gives up on breakfast and storms out.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Harry hits his head on the table of Ron and Hermione's kitchen repeatedly. It's a bit dramatic, but he has to admit it helps somewhat with the frustration. He's just told them how Draco seems to be on a new mission since that terrible breakfast discussion over Harry's lack of love life – at least for once he has _something_ to tell them during their weekly dinner.

"Well, you know, mate... In a sense you're already in a relationship."

That makes Harry raises his head, because, sorry, _what_? Even he would know if he was in a relationship, thank you very much. Hermione has got that proud look on her face that usually means 'my husband is going to have one of his brilliant moments", and Harry's anxiety levels rise significantly.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Think about it! You're living with Draco. You're taking care of Scorpius together. He brings you lunch every day and he took care of you when you were sick. You cook for him and let him buy you clothes. You bicker all the time but never get bored of it. Honestly, the only missing thing is the sex!"

"What?"

"He's not wrong, Harry."

"You think I should have sex with Draco?"

Hermione raises both eyebrows so high Harry is afraid she'll hurt herself.  
"That's what you chose to focus on?"

Harry feels his face burning with the force of his blush.

"Well excuse me, it's-"

"Harry, forget about that for now, will you. I think Ron's right." The redhead beams at his wife and Harry rolls his eyes. "And I think you'd be great together."

"What?"

"Mate, you know he's not my favorite person, but even I have to admit he changed a lot."

"We fight all the time!"

"And you love it" Hermione points out with a small smirk.

Harry opens his mouth and shuts it just as quickly.

"You love it because he challenges you. Things will never get boring with him. Plus he doesn't want anything from you. He has money, he has a high-profile job at the Ministry, and he has made a name of his own already."

"You can't be serious."

"Oh but I am, and I think you already know what I'm telling you. You like him, don't you?"

And suddenly Harry wants to cry. To his shame, tears gather in his eyes and he has to blink furiously to prevent them to escape.

"Shit. Harry, hey, it's alright if you do."

Hermione is suddenly kneeling in front of him. Her big belly prevents her from hugging him properly but her arms come around his shoulders anyway and it's just as good.

"I can't like him."

"Why?"

"Because as soon as he'll feel at ease in the Muggle world and with Scorpius, he'll leave. I can't, Mione."

"Harry, I think you're wrong. I just... Look, I saw Draco when you got that migraine – and we still have to talk about that, by the way! – and he cares about you. It's obvious. I think he's a step ahead of you, and he's pestering you about your love life because he wants you to realize your feelings – and his – on your own."

Harry just shakes his head, burying his head in Hermione's wild mane of hair.

"Mate... you have to believe that not everything is going to end badly. I mean... Maybe give it a chance?"

"It's killing us to see you so sad all the time, Harry. And since Draco and Scorpius came to live with you, you've been so much better. So much more alive. At least promise me you'll think about it."

And how could he refuse anything to his pregnant best friend looking at him with big brown imploring eyes?

"Alright."

Besides, it's not like he's lying. He fucking can't stop thinking about it anyway.

HP-HP-HP-HP

It turns out that Draco adores Disney and is happily making his way through the stack of DVDs that Harry bought with the flat screen a few days ago. Draco is particularly entertained by Muggles' vision of magic, snorting half-heartedly each time there's a witch or a wizard appearing in the story. His eyes don't leave the screen, his face unguarded and expressive as he eagerly watches the animated characters sing ridiculously cheesy songs.

And Harry watches Draco, all thoughts about blackmailing long forgotten.

He's in so much trouble.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been brought to my attention that this chapter could be a little unsettling, and things seem unfair for Harry. It is meant to be that way. Keep in mind that it's Harry's POV, and only his. I promise things will clear up soon!

Obviously, it can't last. Their easy banter and quiet companionship and the way they take care of Scorpius as if they were _family_.

Harry knows it, Draco has to know it, and they carefully tiptoe around the elephant in the room as if everything was right in the world. Something has to happened, something will happen, and Harry feels like he's holding his breath until it does.

HP-HP-HP-HP

This day has been a shitty one so far, so Harry shouldn't be surprised that it doesn't stop at work. He's exhausted, his self-cleaning robes have given up after one little patient too much has thrown up on them, and there's a pounding behind his eyes that promises hell in the next hours. Fucking fantastic.

And then there's Blaise Zabini standing in his living-room, looking as gorgeous and perfect as ever and with his hand wrapped around Draco's neck as he's urgently whispering something to the blonde. It looks... intimate. Harry forcefully ignores the white-hot feeling of jealousy and meets Draco's wide eyes.

Fuck. Harry's so not in the mood for this.

"Harry!"

"Hi Draco. Zabini" he says with a nod before trying to make his escape to the kitchen.

"Potter. Is that vomit on your shoulder?"

Harry's fingers are itching for his wand. Deep breaths, Hermione's voice helpfully echoes in his mind, and he forces himself to smile. The dark skinned man is looking down his nose at Harry – why the fuck does he have to be so short? – and a disgusted frown twist his handsome features.

"Yeah, I'm afraid it is. Sorry, I'll let you two catch up, I need a shower."

"I would have thought St Mungo's would pay you enough to get decently charmed robes. Are you aware that-"

"Blaise, that's enough" Draco interrupts, and Harry feels oddly irritated. He doesn't need help, he can fight his own battles, thank you very much. Not that Zabini is worth fighting, mind you.

"Yes, well, some of us aren't actually afraid to sully their hands and do what has to be done. Staying clean and _neutral_ isn't always an option."

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Harry!"

Harry ignores Draco's hiss and turns around to fully face Zabini.

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

"You'd better watch what you're saying, Potter, just because you-"

"And you'd better not insult and belittle me in my own house, Zabini. Don't make the mistake of underestimate me, it never ends well."

And with that he leaves the room and heads for the bathroom, the pain behind his eyes making his eyes water. He has to calm down, but he's so frustrated and angry and tired that he can't. Even the shower doesn't help him to calm down, and he lets himself fall onto his bed, throwing an arm over his eyes to block what little light the heavy curtains let pass into the room.

Fucking shitty day.

HP-HP-HP-HP

"What the hell was that?"

"Wha?"

Harry blinks sleepily and finally manages to focus on Draco's angry face.

"With Blaise! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What is wrong with me? Are you kidding me? He's a bastard and-"

"I was handling this!"

"What was I supposed to do? Let him insult me?"

"You weren't supposed to raise to his bait like a stupid Weasley!"

"Don't bring my friends into this when _your_ friend-"

"He's not my friend, you moron!" Draco closes his eyes and sighs. "I was handling this. He came to convince me that I'm making a mistake by staying here and keeping Scorpius with me. He's not my friend, merely an acquaintance from school, but he needs my influence and I need his information. I had to make sure he saw that I knew what I was doing, that associating with me is still to his advantage. Blaise is many things, but he's clever. He will not take any risks, and if my choices reflect badly on my reputation in certain circles, you can be sure that he won't be seen with me anymore."

"That's what it is about, really? Influence and reputation? I can't understand you Slytherins, how is that more important-"

"Why do you think I've been so successful into bringing Voldemort's last followers to Azkaban? Why do you think there's actually a heated debate on non-magical children amongst Purebloods? It's because I have influence, because I know the right people and because I have means to get the correct information on them. How did you say? Some people aren't afraid to sully their hands and do what has to be done. No matter what your righteous Gryffindor mind might think of it, sometimes you have to play dirty to win, sometimes you have to associate with people you'd rather hex into next week, and sometimes you have to let them tell you how much of a burden your son is going to be."

"Draco-"

"Fuck off, Potter. I don't know why I even – never mind. We'll be gone by morning, don't worry. No more Slytherins in your house."

And then he's gone, and Harry feels like something is breaking in his chest.

He can see Draco's furious eyes and the hurt expression on his face, and he feels like a moron. He has no idea how to fix this. Maybe he shouldn't try to fix it.

After all, he has always known it would come to that. But he didn't know they would part like that. And he didn't know it would feel like that.

He remembers Zabini's hand on Draco's pale skin and how close they were. Or how close they seemed to be, at least. Harry closes his eyes and lets his mind helpfully supply him with a new version of this scene, and it's him who's touching Draco, him who's whispering soft words.

Fuck. He's such a moron. Hermione is going to kill him if – when – she learns about this.

Like hell he's letting them go. He's going to fix this. For once, he's going to fight for himself. Because they're happy, the three of them, as incongruous as it is. And Harry refuses to let his own stupidity get in the way of that happiness. He needs them in his life, and he's pretty sure they need him as well.

And he'll deal with the fact that he's apparently in love with the aggravating blonde when said blonde isn't about to leave.


	11. Chapter 11

Draco is angrily throwing clothes into a leather duffel bag when Harry reaches his room.

Harry almost laughs out loud at the sight of this grown man throwing a fit like a toddler. It would be counter-productive, though, so he chokes it back.

"Where's Scorpius?"

Draco startles badly and turns around, his wand in hand. Harry raises his hands in surrender and grins. Merlin, he's been such an idiot.

"He's sleeping. What do you want, Potter?"

"I'm sorry about Zabini. I didn't understand why you indulged him like that."

Draco seems thrown off by the apology and his cheeks go faintly pink. He clears his throat awkwardly before answering.

"Yes, well. Thank you for the apology, I guess."

"But you're an asshole, you know."

"Excuse me?"

The blonde looks so offended that Harry chuckles.

"Of course you've always been rather self-centered, so it makes sense."

Draco splutters indignantly and his whole face is now an enticing shade of pink. Harry smirks and can't help but wonder how far that blush goes. Now is not the time to get distracted, he reminds himself firmly.

"You know I couldn't let Zabini insult me like that without reacting. Not only he deserved to be back in his place, but it wouldn't have done you any good. Zabini knows me well enough to expect that kind of reaction. He would have found suspicious if I had reacted any other way. So, yeah, I could have handled that better and Merlin knows Hermione is always scolding me for being too easy to anger, but I'm not entirely to blame. And you could have explained the situation to me without blaming me for everything. Not everything is about you, and if we're going to live together, I think we should learn to talk to each other."

"I-you-what? Anyway we're not going to live together since I'm leaving and-"

Harry snorts and crosses the room with two long steps, before fisting his right hand into Draco's shirt to yank him forward. The blonde is so surprised that he stops talking altogether and squeaks in a very entertaining way.

"Don't worry, you'll apologize later" Harry whispers, and he muffles Draco's answer with a kiss.

Merlin, what a satisfying way to shut the annoying blonde up. He should have done that ages ago. Harry can already picture Hermione's smug 'I-told-you-so' face. He feels years younger, and it's like the monotonous fog of his current life has been lifted all of a sudden. Draco makes a breathless sound against Harry's lips and he's brought back to the present. He gently breaks the kiss, pecking Draco's pink and glistening lips once more.

"Now you can apologize."

"I won't do anything of the sort and have no reason to- hmpfff!"

This time Draco seems to melt into the kiss, his arms coming up to grip Harry's biceps with trembling fingers. Harry tangles his own fingers in the blonde fine and silky hair and does his best to map Draco's mouth with his tongue.

He's not worried. Draco will apologize, sooner or later. He can kiss him all night if needed. The good thing about getting older is that he's way more patient than he used to be.

HP-HP-HP-HP

"Alright" Draco says, panting. "I admit that I have been somewhat hasty in my judgment and that it wasn't fair to you. Happy now?"

Harry grins down at the blonde, who's looking thoroughly debauched. He's currently laying under Harry on his bed after a quite satisfying snogging session.

"That'll do for now."

Draco rolls his eyes and Harry punishes him by licking a wet stripe along his slender neck.

"Ew! Harry! What are you, a dog?"

Harry chuckles and roll onto his side, keeping one hand curled over Draco's slim waist.

"Look, I meant it, I'm sorry I let my anger get the better of me and I'm sorry I doubted you."

Draco rolls his eyes and looks away.

"Yes, yes. And I'm sorry I reacted so strongly and didn't try to see it from your point of view. Are we done with the heartfelt confessions now?"

"You're not leaving anymore, are you?"

"Stupid question."

"Alright, then we're done." Harry feels actually a bit uncertain now, and it must show because Draco snuggles closer and smirks.

"Can I tell Weasley about us?"

Harry snorts and shakes his head. As it is, he's pretty sure that Ron won't actually mind all that much, but there's no need to tell Draco for now.

"Only if I can tell your father."

"Oh fuck. It might kill him on the spot. On second thought, good idea, we should tell him right away."

"You're okay with that? With us?"

"Shut up, Potter. This disgustingly sweet as it is, no need to put it into words. And I expect a proper date as soon as possible."

"Of course you do."

"And in a proper restaurant, none of that take-away crap."

Harry rolls his eyes and lets Draco manhandle him until he's lying on the blonde's chest.

"How are you feeling? No headache?" Draco asks, his voice soft and unsure, and Harry smiles because _that'_ s the real apology, that's the proof that Draco really cares. And just those few words are enough to put Harry's fears and doubts to rest, at least for now.

"I'm alright. More than alright, in fact."

Draco hums quietly and draws his fingers through Harry's hair in a gentle and soothing repetitive motion, and Harry can't help but holding on tighter.

Who knows how long it will last, with Scorpius and the Malfoys and the whole fucking Wizarding World.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional warning for this chapter: contains a mild sex scene between two males!

There’s something to say about waking up lying in bed with someone else. Granted, Harry’s feeling too warm and his left arm is completely numb, but...

Soft strands of silver blond hair tickle his nose and the skin of Draco’s neck is so close to his mouth that Harry can almost taste it. All in all, it’s not a bad thing. He’ll take pin and needles and sweaty hair anyday if it means that he gets to wake up to this. Draco smells good too, like warmth and sleep and home.

Harry gives up on resisting and lightly kisses Draco’s neck. He’s internally debating whether the blonde would mind being woken up like this when Scorpius lets out an impressive ear-piercing wail from his room. Harry grins as Draco frowns in his sleep, looking offended to be disturbed, and gets up as silently as he’s able to.

Scorpius calms down as soon as he sees Harry, sending a toothless grin that has the dark haired man smiling in return.

“Hey Scorpius! You hungry? Come on then sweetie. »

Harry goes through the now familiar process of feeding Scorpius mechanically, his mind still busy analyzing what has happened the night before. The baby finishes quickly and Harry debates going downstairs to make breakfast when he hears Draco softly calling his name.

“I’m here!” Harry stands up, Scorpius still in his arms and quickly makes his way to Draco’s room. “And look who I found, all alone and hungry?”

Draco smiles fondly at his son and raises his arms to take him, chuckling when Scorpius lets out a delighted sound.

“Did you feed him already?”

“Yeah.” Harry is standing awkwardly next to the bed, and he realizes that he should probably leave father and son alone. “I’m, er, I’m just going to go. I’ll make breakfast if you’re hungry later.”

“There’s no hurry. Come here.”

Harry hesitates only a second before climbing back on the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard next to Draco. He tickles Scorpius’ belly to cover his embarrassment, trying to make his blush disappear through sheer force of will. He’s not successful, if Draco’s low chuckle is any clue.

“I think romantic relationships include good morning kisses, Harry.”

Harry opens his mouth, just to close it again. Draco frowns.

“You were bolder yesterday. Did you change your mind?”

“No! No. It’s just… You know. Us, together, and then Scorpius, and it feels… Nevermind.”

Draco moves beside him, but Harry does his best to keep his eyes on the dark green sheet. Soft fingertips touch his chin and then even softer lips touch his mouth, and Harry sighs into the kiss.

“It feels like a family?” Draco says softly, and his eyes are gentle and he’s still holding a struggling Scorpius against his chest, and Harry’s eyes fill with tears.

“Yeah.”

“And is that good?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is. I just… I feel a bit at loss, is all. I don’t know how to do this.”

“Well, I think we did alright until now, didn’t we? Us, it’s just… an added bonus. A very nice development.” Harry smiles, because, well, Draco’s right, isn’t he? Draco smiles in return before the expression morphs into a smirk. “Although I must say I’m a bit disappointed that this one woke up so early. I was rather looking forward to spending time in bed with you.”

Harry flushes but leans forward to kiss Draco once more.

“Well, that will have to wait. Breakfast?”

HP-HP-HP-HP

“Fuck, Potter, we should have done that ages ago.”

“Not sure it would have been possible before… Oh! And don’t call me Potter.”

“Right. Harry.”

Draco fairly purrs his name, and fuck, but it’s ten times worse. Harry moans and hopes he’s not going to humiliate himself in the next ten seconds. That, and that Scorpius doesn’t wake up anytime soon.

Draco walks backwards until his legs hits Harry’s bed and they both fall on it, teeth clashing almost painfully. Draco chuckles and lets his hands wander under Harry’s shirt.

“Take it off.”

“Yeah. You too.”

They take their shirts off and Merlin, it’s so much better. Harry settles between Draco’s bent legs and tries not to rut against him like a dog.

“You feel good. Fuck, you feel so good.” Harry bites lightly on the blonde’s neck and smiles at the answering groan. “I want… fuck, I want….”

“What do you want, Harry?” Draco slips one hand into Harry’s pants and the dark haired brain short circuit. “Tell me.”

Harry whimpers – an embarrassing sound that he’ll deny making later – and sits back on his haunches, quickly taking Draco’s hand out of his pants and trying to get them both out of their trousers. Draco chuckles quietly, but Harry is relieved to see his red cheeks and mussed hair – the blonde is looking as wrecked as he’s feeling.

And then they’re naked, and for some reason all the tension and apprehension leave Harry’s body. This, this is easy. Instinctive. Primal, almost, in a good way. His body knows what to do, and he’s slowly moving with Draco, kissing him, holding him.

“Like this?” Draco whispers.

“Yeah. Just like this.”

It’s enough, like this. It’s good, uncomplicated. It’s intimate, too, the way their bodies glide together, the way their cocks slowly slide against each other, the way they kiss, unhurriedly, tenderly. There will be time for other things later – and Harry shudders just thinking about it, about Draco fucking him or him sinking into the blonde’s body, or taking him into his mouth and _Merlin_ – but right now, this is perfect.

“Harry…”

Draco’s voice is rough. Desperate, in a good way.

“Yes. I know.”

Draco grunts, loudly, and Harry comes with him, wet hotness painting their bellies.

Draco holds him so tight that it hurts, and yes, this is so much more than enough.

Harry closes his eyes and smiles, his forehead resting against Draco’s sweaty shoulder. So much better than enough.


	13. Chapter 13

"Potter, get your arse here now!"

That can't be good. Harry winces from his spot on the couch, slowly closing his copy of Healer Monthly. Scorpius blinks at him from his spot on the rug before happily munching on the ear of a stuffed bunny – a gift from Hermione that Scorpius has been putting to good use since he's toothing. Harry can pratically hear Draco fuming in the kitchen, and that can't be good. Harry cast the usual Charms around Scorpius before slowly standing up.

"Time to face the music, sweetie."

Scorpius grins from ear to ear and Harry can't help but smile in return.

"Potter!"

"Comin'!"

Draco is visibly fuming, still clad in his pajamas and red-faced.

"What the fuck is this?"

"That would be a ring."

"And why was a ring on my muffin?"

"Because I thought it would be better than to get down on my knees and propose in one of those posh restaurants you like?" _Especially if you say no_ , Harry thinks.

"Propose?"

"Yes."

"Are you out of your bloody mind?"

Harry sighs.

"Look, I didn't know how to ask. It's been six months and I... I wanted to make it... I don't know. Kind of official. If you don't want to, just say so and I won't talk about it again. I just thought..."

"What did you think?"

"That it's been the best time of my life, and that I'd like to make it, you know. Permanent."

Draco looks at him closely, before smirking evilly.

"You're aware that you're going to ask my father, don't you?"

"Already done. Your mother is delighted – though I'm a bit worried that she might already be planning our wedding reception – and your father, er... didn't kill me. Which I suppose is good."

Draco shakes his head and puts the ring on, before coming right before Harry. His hands cups the dark haired's face and he smiles.

"You are without a doubt the stupidest and the bravest man I've ever known."

"Does that mean yes?"

"I won't change my name."

"I didn't expect you to."

"I want Weasley to be your best man."

"Er, what? Why?"

"Because I want to be able to snog you senseless just in front of him."

Harry chuckles and wraps his arms around the blonde's waist.

"That's mean, Draco. He's been playing really nice lately."

"I think Scorpius should be our ring-bearer. With someone to help him, it would be nice."

"Yeah."

"And it would be meaningful, you know. Since he's going to wear both our names and all."

"What?"

"You're going to adopt him, you moron. Honestly, why am I even marrying you?"

"Er, because you love me?"

"That I do."

Draco kisses him deeply and Harry sighs happily against his lips when they part.

"So, I think we should call Hermione and Weasley to play babysitters today. I need to have a word with my father, and we need to go shopping."

"Shopping?"

"Did you think you were going to marry _me_ in one of your old robes? No, we have to talk to Madam Malkins, have her make us a set of matching robes, perhaps with a darker colour for you-"

Harry tunes Draco's excited voice out and tries not to regret proposing. Even with the shopping and Lucius' threats and all, it's worth it.

A few months before, he was alone and he was lonely, even if he didn't acknowledge it at the time. And now he's in love and he's loved back and he's even got the very thing he thought he would never have: a family. A strange and unusual family, but it's _his_.

Harry has no doubt that there are trials ahead. For them, for Scorpius. If the last months have proved anything, it's that the Wizarding community hasn't lost its interest in either of them - and certainly not in them together. But he's sure they'll be just fine, together.

"- and maybe we should have doves released, I read that Muggles do that-"

"Wait, what? No, no. No doves, Draco."

If he survives the wedding planning, they'll be just fine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN : and this is it. This is not really how the story was supposed to go, but as always I have no control over my muse, so... I hope you enjoyed it! See you next story, take care!


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